Planet Urth: The Savage Lands (Book 2) (2 page)

“I’ll be right back,” he says to me before he darts off toward Riley. 

I close my eyes and rub my temples.  I think of my own parents, of June and the life we led, of the life we are leading now.  I wish my mother and father were alive.  My father always knew exactly what to do.  He had a gift for surviving seemingly insurmountable odds.  I wish he were with me right now.  I wish he could tell me what to do.  But I know he can’t.  He is gone; a fact that nearly brings me to tears even though it has been a year since his passing.  I shake my head in a feeble attempt to clear his face from my mind’s eye and open my eyes.  I turn them skyward.  And when I do, I spot a massive elm tree.  Its branches stretch and seem to reach until they touch the sky, abounding with leaves, full and dense, its top rounded in appearance.  As I stare at it, an idea dawns on me.  I am reminded of the night we escaped the attack at the compound with my father, the night my mother was murdered by Urthmen. 

That night, we burst from the tunnel and, after collapsing it on the Urthmen inside, fled into the forest, into the night.  Darkness, thick and sinister, swallowed us whole.  Stony moonlight cast a ghostly pallor on the vibrant hues the woodland was usually bathed in and faded everything around us to an ashen silver-gray.  I remember it all; remember it too well, in fact. 

Standing in the forest in broad daylight as I am now, I swear I can smell the musky scent of molded leaves and seasons changing, just as I did that night.  Our lives had just changed, yet the scent struck me, stayed with me.  I breathe deeply and hear my father’s ragged breathing, the memory of it so fresh it feels as if it happened only yesterday. 

The threat of Lurkers was imminent that night, as it is every night, their presence as certain as the blood pumping in our veins.  But we had just survived Urthmen storming our village.  We did not have time to search for a cave or a decent place to hide.  We had just lost everything, my mother, my unborn sister or brother, our home and most, if not all, of the inhabitants of the compound.  We managed to escape, but barely.  We had a new obstacle to contend with, another deadly one equally as dangerous as Urthmen.  We were confronted with Lurkers. 

As we dashed among trees and growth, the rustle of grass and leaves plagued our nerves.  I remember squeezing my father’s hand so tightly, I worried he’d wince in pain.  But he didn’t.  He knew better than to make a sound and alert Lurkers to our presence.  He carried June and led us to a tree similar to the one I am looking at now. 

Broad, bushy limbs stretched and looked as if they mingled with the constellations.  My father slid June to his back and lifted me as high as his arms could
reach then told me to climb, to keep climbing until he told me to stop.  The urgency in his voice set my feet into motion.  I clambered knotted knobs on the trunk until limbs intersected one another like ladder rungs.  Once, I craned my neck and looked over my shoulder to check on my father.  I realized in that moment how high up I had climbed and remember feeling as if a wave of cold nausea crashed over me.  My skin became damp and my brow and palms became slickened with sweat.  A whimper attempted to vault from deep in my throat but was seized by the lump of terror lodged there.  I couldn’t feel my heart beating in my chest and my hearing assumed a muffled quality similar to being underwater and perceiving sounds above the surface that were softened and distorted.  Still, I pushed down the anxious reactions raiding my body and climbed.  My arms and legs felt as if they were made of sponge and my insides quivered.  But the instinctive need to survive won out over my silent panic attack.  

When my father’s voice whispered for me to halt, I froze where I was and waited for him to tell me what to do next.  I did not dare look down again when he instructed me to hoist my leg up onto a limb and sit with my body leaning against the thinner center portion of the tree.  He and June joined me and we waited there until a blazing arc of orange crested on the horizon line.

My father, June and I endured the forest at night, teeming with Lurkers, sitting on a tree limb concealed by leaves and branches. 

An almost identical tree saved June and I once before.  I hope it can do the same for Will, his brother and sister, June and myself a second time.  With no other option in sight, the colossal elm tree before me is our only hope. 

My eyes remain pinned on the tree when I mumble my thoughts aloud and say, “We’ll stay here tonight.”

Impossibly, Will hears me.  He looks away from Riley and leaves her.  His features scrunch in confusion as he approaches.  “What?  You want to stay h
ere, as in right here where we’re standing?” he asks.

My head suddenly feels like the flame on a beeswax candle.  “N-no, not, uh, here exactly,” I say and trip over my words.  My gaze vacillates between him and the elm.  I raise my arm and point.  “I
meant there, in the tree.  We’ll spend the night in that tree.”  I stare at the interlinked branches so jam-packed with leaves a creature would be hard-pressed to see us without concentrating hard.

In my periphery, I see Will’s head whipsaw from me to the tree then back to me again.  He looks at me as if I do not know what I am talking about.  He looks at me as if I have lost my mind.  “What?” he asks incredulously.  “You can’t be serious!  Oh my gosh!  I can’t believe this is happening!  I can’t believe we listened to you and left!”  He is gesturing animatedly, his words cutting me with more precision than his hands cut the atmosphere.  He takes a few sharp breaths then looks at me.  His expression is hard.  “We cannot spend the night in a tree,” he pronounces each word slowly and deliberately. 

“We don’t have another choice,” I say levelly and match his tone by enunciating each word.

“There’s got to be something other than this,” he says huffily and slices the air a final time with his hand.

“Oh yeah?” I say heatedly.  “Is there really?” I feel the tension of the day spiraling tightly inside of me. “Well then, I’m all ears.  I’d love to hear any and all suggestions you have.”

I plant my fisted hands squarely on my hips and glare at Will, waiting, daring him to come up with a better solution.  I allow several beats before the pressure in me starts to seep.  I tip my chin defiantly and purse my lips. 

“Hmm, I’m still waiting,” I say and tap my foot impatiently.

I know I am being obnoxious, but Will touched a nerve, a raw nerve, when he implied that I don’t know what I’m talking about, and that it was a mistake to leave the cave.  His top lip curls over his teeth and he looks as if he is about to say something.  I roll my shoulders back and boldly maintain eye contact, bracing myself for what I assume will be a venomous retort.  I am not about to be bullied or belittled by a boy whose life I’ve saved, or anyone else for that matter.  I don’t care that his sparkling aquamarine eyes popping against his tan skin makes my insides swirl.  I will not tolerate him grumbling at me or meanness of any kind.

Several seconds pass and he does not lash out at me as I expected.  In fact, I am shocked when Will’s features soften.  His posture relaxes and he stops glaring at me.  His gaze flickers from my mouth to my eyes.  I wonder why.  I wonder whether one of the children is nearby and he is silently telling me to shut my mouth.  I did not hear footsteps approaching.

I test my theory and part my lips to speak.  He does not flinch or look as if he wishes for me to be silent so I say calmly, “I know the tree sounds like a crazy place to spend the night, but please, just trust me, okay?  My father kept June and I safe the night my mother was killed by hiding out in a tree. Actually, it looked just like this one,” I say and point to the tree again. 

Will nods somberly.  “About what I said before,” he starts. 

“You don’t have to say anything.  Don’t worry about it,” I say tightly and hope he does not hear the strangling sensation I feel choking my
voice.  The backs of my eyelids are hot.  His doubt, the thought of him regretting leaving with me, branded itself in my core before he ever spoke the words aloud.  Hearing his voice actually say them only served to solidify them.  It brought a fear of mine to fruition.

He holds my gaze for a mome
nt, but I look away first.  “I’ll tell June about my plan.  You can tell Riley and Oliver whenever you’re ready,” I say and turn on my heels.   I walk briskly to where June is seated beside Riley. 

I watch as my sister ru
bs Riley’s arm and speaks soothingly.  She is a natural-born nurturer in addition to so many other splendid things. 

“June, can I borrow you for a minute?” I ask.

“Sure,” June says and reads my face.  She excuses herself just as Will approaches.  He sits where she sat and I gather he will tell his siblings what I intend to tell June. 

“What’s up?” June asks and looks serious.

“I found a place for us to stay tonight,” I tell her.

Relief floods her features.  “Really!  That’s fantastic!” she exclaims.  Her eyes begin sweeping the area around us.  Her features wilt a bit.  “Where?  Where will we stay?” she asks and is clearly perplexed.  “I don’t see a cave or any real shelter.”

I lick my lips and take a deep breath.  “We are going to do what we did the night we left the compound, the night mom was killed,” I say. 

“What?  What does that mean?” June asks. 

“You were too little to remember what happened or how we survived, but I do.  We fled the village through an underground tunnel and found ourselves in the middle of the forest at night,” I say and try to coax a memory from her I know she does not possess.

“Okay, yeah, I vaguely remember dad mentioning it through the years, but he never wanted to talk about that night at all,” she bobs her head slowly as she speaks. 

“I know,” I say solemnly.  “But what we did that night saved our lives and I think it is the only option we have now to avoid being dinner for the first Lurkers that find us.”

I hear the words leave my lips.  They send a shiver down my spine and conjure the sound of hissing and snarling we heard from the night before as Lurkers tried to dig their way into our cave. 

June’s arms are wrapped around her waist, clutching her midsection.  “So what do we do?  What’s the plan?” June asks.

“We’
re going to hide out up there,” I say and point to the elm tree.

“What?” she asks and her face crumples just as Will’s did moments ago.

“I know it sounds crazy, but you and dad and I never would have made it that night if we hadn’t gone up into a tree.”

June watches me warily. 

“We’ll climb as high as we can and avoid the Lurkers altogether.”

“But Avery, you’re forgetting that Lurkers can climb,” June adds in a voice that trembles. 

“No, I know they can climb, but why would they?” I ask and look toward the tree again.  “Unless they see us going up, they’ll never know we’re there.”

June’s eyes follow my line of vision.  Her lips part slightly and she expels a thin stream of breath.

“Right now, it’s our only hope.  Hiding out in the tree is all we have,” I tell her honestly.  “We can stay in the tree for the night then hike all day tomorrow and be out of the woods and not have to worry about Lurkers.”

“That’s right.  We won’t have to worry about Lurkers anymore.  The worry of Urthmen will replace it, only there is no escaping them, not even in the daylight.”

A look I have never seen haunts June’s face almost as much as her words haunt her voice.  Her words crystallize my thoughts.  She is right.  We will not hide from Lurkers at nightfall.  We will continually run from Urthmen. 

“June, the woods are not safe from Urthmen anymore either.  You know that.  Will’s parents were just the beginning.  How long do you think it would take before they found us too?  No, we are not trading up one thre
at for another, worse one.  We’re losing one of two if you ask me.”

June closes her eyes and shakes her head.  “Oh my gosh,” is all she murmurs. 

I reach out to her and put my hands on her shoulders.  “Hey,” I say.  “June, look at me.”

Her eyes open and slowly meet my gaze. 

“It’s going to be okay,” I say.  “I promise.  We will be okay.”

Her lower lip quivers and I see unshed tears shining in her eyes.  She blinks them away feverishly.  “How can you be so sure?” she asks in a small voice.

“I-I can’t explain it,” I say and would rather not describe that I was thinking about our father when the idea popped into my mind and the tree came into view.  Whether or not it was a coincidence does not matter.  I am sure this is the only way to live through the night.  “I just am,” I tell her.  “It’s what dad would do if he was here, and he could survive anything.”

Tears spill over June’s lower eyelashes and stream down her cheeks.  “You’re wrong.  Dad s
urvived a lot of things but he’s not here.  So he could not survive everything,” she says and refers to the fact that our father is dead.

“He lived a long time.  He had fifty birthdays.  That’s a lot considering all the medicines that kept people alive two hundred years ago don’t exist anymore,” I try to explain.  But June is only eight.  Her understanding of life is limited.  I do not fault her for that.  “Please June, just trust me, okay?  Do you trust me?”

A small sob racks her body and she nods.  “Yes I do,” she manages.

“Good,” I say.  I draw her against my chest and hug her.  I hold her tightly for several moments then gradually release her.  “Now let’s go see how Oliver and Riley are taking the news,” I smile weakly and say.